Heir of Amber and Fire

by Rachanee Lumayno

  One of the soldiers, sweat pouring down his brow from the heat, thrust Kye’s weapon at him, indicating frantically that Kye was to help the soldiers take down the dragon. Kye barely caught it in hands slick with his own nervous perspiration. He darted quick looks between the dragon, the soldiers, and his friends.

  Swords and shields at the ready, the soldiers held their ground, if a bit unsteadily. There was no longer any pretense about who they were — some of King Hendon’s finest and fiercest soldiers. But while they were hardened fighters, very few are prepared to fight a full-grown dragon in its prime.

  Joichan roared again, as if in warning. He turned his metallic eyes, as golden as his hide, on the soldiers, waiting. Toying with his prey.

  While the soldiers and the dragon silently sized each other up, Kye surreptitiously edged his way toward his friends.

  Still the silence. Still the waiting. Then, letting out a yell, one of the soldiers charged.

  Joichan bared his teeth as the rest of the group joined the fray. The soldier guarding Kye’s friends ran to help his comrades.

  While their attention was on the dragon, Kye ran to the tree and cut one of his friends loose. Together, they frantically worked on freeing the rest of their team.

  The battle between humans and dragon continued. While Joichan was powerful and cunning, four trained fighters were able to hold their own against him. Blood had been spilled on both sides: a claw graze on one man, a cut on Joichan’s hide. But both sides were evenly matched, making it a battle of attrition, not of strength.

  Kye paused for a brief moment to survey the scene. His eyes met the dragon’s golden ones; even though Joichan was frightening in his magnificence, Kye’s fear melted away. Perhaps the dragon had hypnotized him? He couldn’t be sure.

  Another of Kye’s friends broke free of her bonds, drawing the dragon’s attention. Joichan snorted, somewhat confused as he glanced between the soldiers and Kye’s team tied to the tree. One of the soldiers followed Joichan’s eyes to spot Kye by the tree, where he had finished cutting the ropes of the last captive. The soldier let out a yell and ran toward the tree.

  “Come back!” his fellow soldier shouted after him. “We need to take care of the dragon first!”

  “And let these ones stab us in the back while we’re distracted? I’ll take care of them quickly enough!” Having reached the tree, the man raised his sword to strike.

  Kye barely had enough time to raise his weapon to block the soldier’s attack. The soldier was relentless, continuing the onslaught as Kye desperately tried to defend himself.

  One of Kye’s friends had found his weapon and jumped in, hoping to sneak in a strike. But his blow was easily deflected. The soldier ran Kye’s friend through with his sword and returned to attacking Kye without missing a beat.

  With only three soldiers focused on the dragon, the contest shifted. Joichan was gaining ground and inflicting more injuries on the soldiers, who were yelling for their comrade to come back and help them.

  Hearing his friend scream as he fell under the soldier’s blade, a horrified Kye looked his way. Kye’s arm faltered a bit. He looked back to see his opponent raise his sword for a killing blow.

  Then Joichan stepped forward and batted his mighty claw between the two men. Kye felt himself sail through the air, his back hitting the tree, the air rushing out of his body with a whoosh. He tried to get up, but everything hurt too much. Before he blacked out, he felt a rush of heat and heard, one last time, Joichan’s fearsome roar.

  BEYAN’S FATHER WOKE up in a hostel, as a kindly middle-aged woman was changing the dressing on his leg. Her clinical, dispassionate manner — and her plain, serviceable black-and-white uniform — marked her as one who had taken religious vows.

  “You’re finally awake,” she commented when she saw his open eyes.

  “Where am I?” He tried to sit up, turning his head to look around. An intense headache instantly blossomed in his skull, and he sank back down, groaning.

  “You’re in the Monastery of the Silver Rose.” The nun finished her ministrations on Kye’s leg, and handed him a steaming cup of tea that smelled strongly like feverfew. “Drink this for your head. I wouldn’t try to move too much, if I were you.” She threw the dirty bandages in a basket by the bed. “You were roughed up something fierce when you came here. I daresay it will be at least a week or two before you can even think about moving about.”

  “What happened?” Kye asked.

  While the nun didn’t know what had happened after Kye lost consciousness, she did know that his friends had brought him to the monastery. He eventually convinced her he was strong enough for them to visit, and then he was able to piece together the strange and sorry event between the band of travelers and the dragon.

  The fight between King Hendon’s men and the dragon Joichan ended soon after Kye had lost consciousness. The soldiers had been burned by Joichan’s flame; Kye wondered why the dragon hadn’t just breathed fire on everyone immediately and killed them all right away. The fight finished, the dragon had shot straight up, into the air, and had flown away.

  Of the original four in Kye’s group, one comrade had fallen during the fight, and one — Kye himself — was injured. Kye had hit his head against the tree when Joichan had swept him aside. His leg had landed underneath him, twisting at an unnatural angle. The leg would heal, but would forever be deformed and unusable.

  As she had predicted, a little over a week passed before the nun declared Kye well enough to travel. He and his friends made their slow, sad way back home. His companions stayed in Orchwell, but Kye continued on to Calia, determined to collect payment on this commission and put the whole sorry affair behind him.

  As he relayed his tale to King Hendon, Kye was met with a thoughtful silence from the impenetrable monarch. Even when Kye mentioned that all of the king’s soldiers had perished, there was no reaction from the king. When Kye finished his story, the king’s silence stretched out so long that Kye’s ears rang from the lack of sound.

  Then: “What of the dragon?”

  “Joichan still lives, Your Majesty,” Kye said. “My companions and I are not fighters, nor do we ever harm those that we are commissioned to seek.”

  The king locked eyes with Kye. Kye held still, afraid to move, to breathe, to blink. The king looked up at his guards and said, almost lazily, “Throw him out.”

  The guards moved toward Kye and grabbed his arms. “Wait!” Kye shouted. “What about payment? I was promised — ”

  “You were promised? You broke your promise, to me,” said the king.

  “I did not!” Kye said. “I led your men to Joichan, as I said I would.”

  “I wanted Joichan’s head, but you failed to deliver.”

  “That wasn’t what you told me the task truly was!”

  The silence following Kye’s outburst lay heavily on the room. The king’s icy glare pinned Kye where he stood in the grip of the guards.

  “Are you saying I lied?” King Hendon’s voice was too calm, too even.

  “N—no, sire. I just — ”

  “Four men dead, and you couldn’t even give me what I wanted,” the king said. “I should have you killed, but your paltry life is hardly compensation for my men.”

  Kye held his breath, sure his life was now forfeit.

  The king waved his hand as if Kye were an annoying gnat. Easily swatted away. Easily crushed. “But I’m feeling kind today. It could have been the dungeon for you, but instead, I’m just going to banish you from my kingdom. If you ever set foot in Calia again, you will be killed immediately. Farewell.”

  The guards forcefully turned Kye around and began to march him out of the throne room. The doors shut behind him with a sickening finality. Kye was escorted to the gates of Calia with a stern reminder of the king’s decree. Despondent, he returned home to his family.

  “EVEN THOUGH I WAS A child, I knew something was wrong the minute my father stepped through the door,” Beyan said. “And it was like our
fortunes changed overnight. Bad luck followed us wherever we went.”

  Without the money from King Hendon’s commission, Kye was unable to pay his team, but he insisted on it anyway. Out of his personal fortune, he gave them their wages, plus an additional stipend to make up for the trouble the group had encountered. He also made sure to compensate the family of his fallen friend.

  Word of the Joichan campaign spread, fueled by a vengeful King Hendon. Jobs became scarce. Of the ones that were offered, completing them became an arduous task, since Kye’s injured leg hindered him from traveling easily. The family’s fortune started to dwindle, and Beyan’s mother became ill. They spent all they could — more than they could afford — for medicine to help her, but her condition steadily worsened.

  As the next dragon seeker, all of the family’s hopes rested on Beyan. Despite his youth, Kye began taking his son with him on jobs, relying on Beyan for assistance and training him in the field.

  “I loved seeking, I excelled at it,” Beyan said. “But I also felt like I was carrying an immense weight around all the time. There was so much pressure on me to restore the family name. Find the dragon, complete the commission, get the money. Help my mother get the medicine she needed or help my father with some seeking-related task he could no longer do. I grew to hate my abilities, even as I started getting more prominent in my position.”

  The sky was beginning to lighten; we’d been up for hours talking. Soon Rhyss and Farrah would be up and we’d have to break camp and continue on. But I didn’t feel tired, just riveted by Beyan’s story.

  I lightly touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I said. Beyan smiled sadly in response.

  “Sometimes I just feel consumed by hate,” he said. “I hate that my father is a shell of who he once was. I hate feeling guilty over wishing things were different. I hate King Hendon for ruining my family with his evil and impossible task, for putting my father in such a horrible position and then punishing my family for the failure of his men.”

  “Do you hate Joichan?” I asked. “I know he injured your father, but it seems to me he actually saved your father’s life, by getting him out of the way before he roasted those soldiers.”

  “He could have done it in a less brutal manner,” Beyan said. “But a feral beast isn’t capable of rational thought.”

  I held my tongue, not wanting to give away my secret accidentally in defense of Joichan.

  Beyan gazed into the fire, thinking. Finally: “Yes. Yes, I hate Joichan too. He’s the reason this all started in the first place. If he hadn’t attacked Calia... if my father hadn’t had to go find him... if he hadn’t swept my father aside with his claw.... Then everything would be different. I’d be different.

  “I understand that, even after all this time, King Hendon still is offering a sizable bounty for proof that the dragon has been destroyed. I despise the king, true. But I would happily bring Joichan’s head to him, on a silver platter and with ribbons tied to the dragon’s horns, if it meant my family’s fortunes would be restored. And that’s what I intend to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BEYAN FINISHED HIS tale just as the sun peeked over the horizon. It was still too dark in the growing dawn for Beyan to see the horrified expression on my face. Not that he was looking at me. He was still staring into the dying embers of the fire, lost in the memories of his childhood.

  While his story rightly saddened and revulsed me, I was also strangely drawn to his passion. He was willing to risk his sanity, his future, and even his life if it meant he could help his father and possibly restore his family to its former glory.

  My mother had sent me to Beyan’s father for help, unaware of the misfortune that had befallen Kye and his family. I now had to rely on Beyan to help me find my father. And yet, Beyan wanted to kill my father. What should I do?

  A lone traveler would be an easy target for bandits on the road. The events of the night could occur again, and without the help of my companions I knew I wouldn’t survive a similar encounter. So, I would stay with the group. For now. Maybe once we got closer to Annlyn I could strike off on my own to find Joichan. Surely it would be easy enough to find a giant dragon in the area.

  As I mulled it over, I found I was reluctantly embracing the idea of breaking away from my group. Aside from the safety of traveling with them, I also genuinely liked them. Rhyss with his sarcastic comments and happy-go-lucky nature. Compassionate Farrah, who had become an invaluable teacher. And Beyan....

  I pushed the thought away as one of our sleeping companions stirred and opened her eyes. Farrah sat up slowly, still in a drowsy haze, and saw us sitting by the now-cold fire. “Why didn’t you two wake me?” she asked with a yawn. “Did either of you get any sleep at all?”

  “We’re fine,” Beyan dodged the question. Farrah looked at me quizzically. I shrugged.

  “What’s the plan for today?” Farrah asked. “We’re getting close to Joichan’s cave, aren’t we?”

  “I believe so,” Beyan said. “It’s probably within a day’s ride from here, but we’ve been on the road for so long, I think it would be best if we went to Annlyn and refreshed our supplies.” Annlyn, as the southernmost of the Gifted Lands, had always seemed so mysterious and exotic to me. The citizens of Annlyn were rumored to be a people of intuition. Not fortune tellers, exactly, and definitely not charlatans. But they were very wise, and able to see things about you that you didn’t know about yourself. Since the kingdoms of Calia and Annlyn were so distant from each other, we rarely had visitors from there. Beyan’s announcement filled me with anticipation; I would finally get to see this famed land for myself.

  Soon after, Rhyss woke up and we quickly broke camp and set off. We didn’t have to go far. A short ride later, our little group had arrived in Annlyn. We dismounted and left our horses at a stable just inside the gates, making sure to grab our packs for our walk around the kingdom’s capital city.

  The first thing I noticed about it was how serene and calming it was. Cool gray, white, and black stone lined the streets, climbed up the buildings, and set off the tinkling fountains that flowed practically everywhere. Marveling at all the water I saw, I realized we were standing in a literal oasis in the hot and steamy south. It seemed like all of Annlyn was out enjoying the day; we were surrounded by crowds of people in the streets, on errands or visiting with each other.

  The second thing I noticed were the Calian riders.

  Even though they weren’t arrayed as the ones I had seen a few weeks past, opting for plain saddles instead of official Calian trappings, I knew who they were the minute I spotted them. Carefully picking their way through the crowds, they were watching the passersby a little too closely. I shrunk into myself, wishing I had thought to wear my headscarf, hoping they would overlook me.

  Rhyss was oblivious as always, but Beyan and Farrah both noticed my apprehension and gave me funny looks. Farrah opened her mouth, about to say something, but Beyan spoke first. “My father said that usually there’s a market in the city center. We can probably find most of the the things we need there.”

  “What do we need?” Farrah asked. “Besides food.”

  “I need to get my knife repaired,” Rhyss said. Farrah smirked. Rhyss’s knife handle had broken from the blade a few nights ago while he was skinning a rabbit for dinner. The incident had caused endless teasing from Farrah, who thought it was hilarious that of all the reasons for Rhyss’s weapon to break, it was for something so innocuous.

  “Or, you could just buy a new one altogether,” Farrah said. “That knife was ancient. I’m surprised it hasn’t broken earlier.”

  “We’ll see,” Rhyss said. “It may be old, but it’s my favorite.”

  “The blade is rusty,” Farrah pointed out. “And — ”

  “Let’s head to the market, then.” Beyan interrupted them before they could start bickering. Without waiting for a response, he strode away, forcing us to hurry after him to keep up.

  As we walked through the city, I n
oticed a third thing: there were animals everywhere. A dog or two here, or even a goat or cow. I supposed that made sense. People would have pets, or have farms.

  But then I spotted other animals. A baby elephant, wobbly on its chubby legs. A tiger, sleek and majestic. On the other side of the street, a flash of twisted white antlers caught my eye. I saw an elk walking sedately alongside a gray wolf.

  What was going on here?

  I rubbed my eyes, thinking they were playing tricks on me. But when I looked again, I still saw all the animals — many who definitely weren’t native to this area — all around me.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing Beyan’s sleeve to slow him down. I motioned to Rhyss and Farrah to come closer and lowered my voice. “Do you see that?”

  “See what?” Beyan asked, looking around.

  Surreptitiously, I nodded my head in the direction of the elk and the wolf, who were just to our left. “Over there.” As one, all three of them looked over to where I had indicated. “Don’t be so obvious!” I hissed.

  Farrah shook her head. “I don’t get it,” she said. “What are we trying to see?”

  “You don’t see them? Any of them?” I asked. “There are animals everywhere.”

  “So? We’re in a city,” Rhyss pointed out. “There are bound to be stray dogs and cats and such running around.”

  “Not dogs and cats,” I said. “Wolves and elephants and elk and tigers and none of them are scared of each other.”

  Beyan surveyed the city again, more carefully this time. “I’m still not seeing anything unusual,” he finally said.

  “You feeling okay?” Farrah asked me. “I know you didn’t get much sleep last night. Maybe it’s just exhaustion?”

  I didn’t think that was it, but I didn’t want to argue further, or my friends would think I was crazy. So I just nodded and let Beyan continue leading our group to the market. Walking faster, I peeked up ahead and saw the elk and the wolf still walking together a few feet ahead of us. The two animals stopped moving. Suddenly, the wolf winked out, and in its place was a man.